


F-list Evil

by Ladytalon



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon





	F-list Evil

  
  
  
  
**Word Count:** 400

Chuckle. That was one word that Marcus Hamilton never said, one thing he – despite reports to the contrary – never did. He sat glaring at the computer screen and wondering if there was a spell that could transport him to wherever this person lived so he could give whoever it was a piece of his mind. And all ten fingers wrapped around their throat. Marcus bookmarked the page and, a quick call to the Spell Department later, he was on his way to confront this so-called author. Probably some pimple-faced teenage boy living out his fantasy life through writing. He had to admit, the boy's description of him and the things he did on a regular basis were pretty much spot-on. Except for the chuckling.

Marcus shuddered just thinking about that vile word, and stepped through the portal into…where was he? A gaggle of tourists following a woman holding up an umbrella handle gave him the answer, as some of them were clutching pairs of oversized wooden shoes. It would just _have_ to be Holland, he thought irritably. He wasn't in the mood for any Dutch nonsense. The last time he was here, he'd been roped into…well, best not to think of that just now. He had a mission. A mission that, apparently, involved going door-to-door asking after this '[](http://guinny-hamilton.livejournal.com/profile)[**guinny_hamilton**](http://guinny-hamilton.livejournal.com/)' since the Spell Department hadn't been able to get past the "Friends Lock" on the online journal. What was the use of being evil if you couldn't even override someone's privacy settings?

Acting the traveling salesman proved to be unnecessary when a hideous baying made him turn to see a tiny dark-haired woman yanking on the leashes of two very large dogs. He'd seen hell-hounds with less zest for life. "Timmy! Anya! Stop it," she warned.

Marcus ambled closer to get a better look at the woman – the dogs wouldn't be a problem, and at least his trip wouldn't be a complete waste of time – and the dogs redoubled their efforts to reach him. "Looks like you've got your hands full," he said indulgently. He'd make sure her hands were full of something else, shortly.

As if she'd heard, she cocked her head at him, frowning. "They don't seem to like you very much."

"I can't see why; I'm housetrained with the best of them," Marcus said suavely.

She was openly skeptical. "Uh-huh."

Oh, this was going to be a challenge.

  



End file.
